


There's A Place

by poetrydivided



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: F/F, Yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:30:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetrydivided/pseuds/poetrydivided
Summary: the one based off of "There's A Place" by the All-American Rejects





	There's A Place

**Author's Note:**

> TW: mention of death, accidental overdose

She wakes up. Her hands are stuck in her hair, her heart is racing, and yet all she feels is cold. She's sure there are still goosebumps on the back of her neck, running down her arms. She is sure her nightmare has left some mark, some remnant. It always does.

It changes. Sometimes it's goosebumps, other times a bruise; waking up on the floor; stepping on old books and picture frames and jewelry, all swept off from her bedside table, unconsciously.

She untangles a hand from her hair, reaching for her phone. The clock reads 3 AM, but her mind is already singing of early dawn.

And once her mind is set on something, its set for good. She heads downstairs, bumping into her bedroom door on the way out.

Dinah's always one step ahead of her, splayed out across the couch balancing a bowl of cereal on her chest. The opening credits of 500 Days Of Summer are already starting to flicker across the flatscreen. It was Her favorite movie. Not Camila's, not Dinah's, but Her's. Camila doesn't know why she insists on watching that movie and that movie alone. Dinah isn't sure why she lets her.

"Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to join me?" She says, her eyes not leaving the TV. Dinah knows how this episode goes. In fact, lately, all she's been watching are it's re-runs. She's expectant. Prepared.

Silence.

"I put out Frosted Flakes for you. We're all out of Froot Loops."

More silence.

"Alright," Dinah sits up, placing her bowl on the coffee table. "What was it this time, Mila?"

And Camila hates this. She hates feeling like a burden, like a pimple that just won't go away and even when it does, it scars. She shouldn't be like this, shouldn't be having nightmares in the dead of night and keeping her best friend up. She should be normal. She wishes she could be normal. She wishes things would change.

But wishes are for bad movies and cancer patients. Wishes are for people who actually could use one. Wishes are for the one percent.

Camila was far from the one percent.

"Camila?" Dinah's waving one hand in front of Camila's face, the other on her shoulder. "Hey, hey,"

This, again, had become normal. Camila gets lost in her head too often.

"Sorry," She shakes her head. "I just, um, I think I'm gonna try to go back to bed." But she cuts for the kitchen. "I just needed some water." Her voice sounds so small, so diminished.

They both know its a lie, but neither of them will deny it. Dinah simply stands a few steps away, narrowing her eyes at the smaller girl. She knows better than to argue with Camila. Lately it's all they've been doing.

But neither of them hold grudges. Camila never means what she says, and Dinah understands. She understands everything.

She's still staring when Camila turns around, cup in hand.

"What?" Camila asks.

Dinah shrugs. "Are you sure?"

This could mean many things; are you sure you want only water?; are you sure you don't want to watch the movie?; are you sure you don't want to talk about it?; are you sure you made the right decision?

But through all the possibilities, Camila knows what she's asking.

And if she's being truly honest, no. She isn't sure.

She sets her cup down on the counter. "I don't even remember what I dream about anymore," It's a lie, but not completely. "Everything just blurs together, like I'm riding the Tilt-A-Whirl and it's everything I can do to hold back from throwing up. I can't make out anything, aside from..." She doesn't finish the thought. She lets her silence punctuate the sentence.

There are two sides to Dinah Jane: the therapist, and the obnoxious overly-caring best friend. The latter seems to have all but vanished. She steps forward. "Can I be honest?"

Camila reaches back for her water. She needs something to concentrate on, to distract her from the enormity. "I guess," She mumbles, staring down into the clear liquid.

"You need closure, Mila."

Camila takes a sip of her drink.

"Look, I know you don't want to hear this. But it's killing you. It's been a month, and you've left the house what, maybe three times? You need to...You need to talk to Her."

"I'm going back to bed." Camila throws her cup in the sink and bows her head down as she makes for the stairs. Dinah stops her by the arm.

"Camila, please just hear me out."

"I'm tired, Dinah." And she is, but it isn't from the recent lack of sleep. The bags under her eyes aren't from the nightmares. Only people can cause that much stress, that much exhaustion, that much pain.

"You need to talk to her," Dinah repeats.

"No," Camila shakes her head. "No, I don't. I don't need to do anything involving..." She shakes her head again, sighing.

"Look what you've let her do to you, Mila! You can't even say her name! You need to stop this-"

"Stop this? Stop this?" Camila's getting angry now, but not genuinely. The mild kind of angry, the half-asleep foggy-minded angry. "You really think I wouldn't stop this if I could? I'm barely managing four hours of sleep a night. I have no appetite aside from fucking bananas and cereal, and no matter how fucking hard I try I can't seem to get my foot out the door. I know what my body is doing, Dinah. I know whatever this is isn't healthy. I want it to stop, too. More than anything. But talking to..." She shakes her head once more. "That isn't going to change anything. A conversation can't fix shit."

"But it can! You don't know, she..."

And there's this look on Dinah's face, like she's afraid she's said too much, afraid to go on. She pulls her lips inward, releasing them with a 'b' sound. "You know what, whatever." Her voice is lower, more tense. "Go. Try and get some sleep. I'll check up on you in an hour."

But Camila knows. She's always let off easy, but never that easy. She searches Dinah's eyes, for an answer, for a confirmation. She finds it. Dinah's jaw is locked. Her lips are stretched too thinly, clamped shut too tightly. Her eyes are darker, like she's ashamed.

She's hiding something.

"What?" Camila says. "What is it?"

"Mila, don't-"

"What?" She steps down from the railing, crossing her arms. She bores straight into Dinah, or at least tries to. It's been hard lately to refrain from staring past someone, rather than actually looking. "Tell me," She shrugs. She mimics Dinah, pulling her lips inward and releasing them with a smack. She knows it has something to do with...

But she won't allow herself to admit it.

Not yet.

Dinah sighs roughly, shoving air out her nose. "I talked to her, okay?"

"You what?" Camila stalks closer, her brow drawing in violently. "Okay, hold on-"

"Mani called me-"

"Hold on, hold on,"

"She said Lauren-"

And out of everything in the world that could possibly set someone off, nothing like the release of that one word, that one name, could drive Camila angrier.

Dinah knows this. That's why she stops talking as soon as the name slipped, as soon as the bomb went off.

"Camila, I didn't-"

"Don't. Just," She's so close. Camila is so close to breaking the nearest thing in sight, so close to throwing a tantrum only a child could match. But she holds it in. Because if she doesn't, the nearest thing in sight is Dinah's face, and Dinah can only handle so much. She's just waiting for a reason to leave. Camila knows it.

"I'm done talking about it. Goodnight,"

Dinah doesn't want to. She knows she's going to regret this. She knows how fragile a state Camila is in.

But sometimes breaking someone down is the only way to build them back up.

At least that's what the military does, right?

"Camila," Dinah says, and Camila stops at the top of the stairs. "Mani called me. She said Lauren-" She stops, observes the slump of Camila's shoulders, continues. "She said Lauren needed time to figure things out for herself. That Lauren said that when you guys....you know." She shakes her head. She feels so uncomfortable saying this, so ashamed. But she knows it needs to be said. This message needs to be delivered. She's just praying Camila won't kill the messenger. "Lauren needed time. Both of you needed time. She feels terrible, Camila. But she had things she needed to take care of-"

"I would've waited forever for that girl," Camila doesn't mean to say it; it just happens. She turns around. "I don't get it," She shrugs, almost violently. "If she would have just explained firsthand what was going on-"

"She was in a contract, Camila. You know that."

"Yeah, now I know that. A month later. And that doesn't excuse her! So what? Her career is more important than me? I don't give a shit what her contract mandated! If she truly loved me, she would've broken all the rules for me."

So this is the character Camila's playing tonight, Dinah thinks. Petty, hurt. But not sincere.

And Dinah is so not having it. Because she knows Camila is hiding. She needs to get to the real Camila. This needs to stop.

"This isn't one of your John Green books." She means to say it gently, but it hurts Camila all the same. "Her career is everything. It's how she pays for food and living arrangements and her family. It's her income, Camila. Had she gone against it, she would've been broke. No burger joint is going to hire a washed-up pop star. But even more than that, Camila. This is her dream. You just didn't fit into it, not yet. She wasn't about to end her life for yours."

"She told me I was her dream. Her life."

Dinah sighs. She isn't getting through to her. "We say stupid things when we're in love."

It's the completely wrong thing to say.

Camila marches back down the staircase. "Stupid? You think what she told me was stupid?"

"Camila, I didn't mean-"

"No, of course you didn't. God, I am so tired of you butting into this. I am never going to forgive her. I fell so hard, so hard Dinah! I thought I was going to marry this girl. I thought we would have a family. I thought I'd be front row at all her concerts, because backstage I wouldn't be able to reach her. She promised me, over and over, that this would work. That things were fine. 'We'll find a way to make it work!' She said. 'We always do'. But you know what? We didn't. We didn't find a way for things to work. And now she's off touring the fucking world while I'm stuck here in this ugly ass apartment drugged up on sleeping pills half the time. It's been a month. The sleeping pills stopped working."

She's crying. No, she's doing more than crying. She's spiraling into a downright breakdown. Not a tantrum, not a fit. A breakdown. She's had these sparingly over the course of the month. "I think they just made me more sad, you know? I wasn't dreaming. So I stopped. I can't- I can't take that. Dreams that aren't really dreams. Just these undeveloped polaroid photos. Does that make sense? Black voids. That's all this month has been. A black void."

And she's in that state of sadness, of delirium, where she just mumbles out any sentence that pops into her head because she feels the need to keep talking but her brain is tired and she, as a whole is tired but she knows she can't sleep. Her mind is one big run-on sentence.

Dinah doesn't know what to say. Camila continues.

"Maybe we do say stupid things when we're in love. We say things we don't mean. We make promises we can't keep. But you what the thing is? I would've shoved it all to the side. The lies, the contract...I would've ignored it all if she had just kept her promise to love me. She promised she would always love me, and then she just..." She throws her hands in the air. She can't talk any longer.

Dinah wants so desperately to hug Camila, to hold her as she cries and promise her that everything will be fine and work itself out. But she knows that isn't the truth. They both know that isn't the truth. Holding someone so tight and praying their pieces will realign is like trying to mend a broken toy without any glue. Dinah knows what will put Camila back together. But that's another thing, too; you can't help someone unless they want to be helped. And Camila is as stubborn as they come.

So Dinah doesn't swoop Camila in her arms. She doesn't promise that things will be okay, because so long as Camila keeps this up, they won't.

She says the only thing left to say.

"She loves you."

Camila's eyes ice over, but Dinah continues.

"She loves you, Camila-"

"Stop saying that-"

"She loves you and you love her and I know you guys can fix things if you just-"

"Stop it-"

"She did this for you, Camila! She loves you!"

"Stop it! Stop saying that! Stop acting like we're some married couple who just need to talk things out and everything will be okay. We're not some married couple. She's a fucking pop-star and I'm a nobody who dropped out of college for what? For this?"

"You don't know the whole story."

Camila stops mid-yell. Her jaw tightens. "What are you talking about?"

She swears. She swears if Dinah knows something about this that she doesn't...

"She said theres more to the story. Mani wouldn't tell me everything over the phone, but..."

There's more to the story? There's more to the story? Camila almost visibly shrinks, her eyes darting all over the place. She's getting lost in her head again.

"Camila, Lauren said you needed time to grow. She's three years older than you and everything was so overwhelming for you. And the new album, the new tour. She didn't want to add more to your plate. She..." She stops, searches Camila's face for any trace of anger, of refusal. But there's something new there: fear.

Dinah knows she has to tread softly.

"You both weren't ready. She thought that if she gave y'all some time, you both would grow and be ready to work things out later."

"Well, she was wrong." Camila is so over this. Her voice is rough, strained. She runs her hand over her face. "I'm not ready to work things out."

"But she is, Mila."

"Really," Camila shakes her head. "So what, I'm convenient now? I'm not an option, Dinah. She can't just decide she wants me again and expect me to drop everything for her-"

And like lightning, understanding strikes.

But as much as Camila realizes how right Lauren might've been, she won't admit it. Lauren broke her heart, stepped on the pieces and swept them under the rug. You can't just do that. That's like killing someone and trying to hide the evidence. You can wash yourself as much as you want, but your hands will never be clean.

Heartbreak isn't justified. It never is.

"Forget it. I'm not going to talk to her."

"Camila-"

But Camila's already up in her room.

-

"What do you mean she doesn't want to talk, Dinah?" Lauren's voice is anchored by an expectant sigh. She looks out the private jet's window, hoping maybe, somehow, a correct answer will find its voice wedged between the clouds; that the sky will tear itself open and rain a miracle.

But right now all that is out there is darkness, the sun a distant thought.

There are no right answers, no miracles worth experiencing this time of night.

Dinah sighs over the phone, too. "She's in a really messed-up state right now, Lo."

"I know that. That's why I'm trying to-"

"Lauren. Listen, I love you. Really, you've become one of my best friends over these past two years. But..."

"Don't." Lauren's skin shrinks against her frame. She swallows, her mouth suddenly dry. "Dinah, I swear to god, don't you dare-"

"You hurt her, Lauren! What do you expect? You broke her heart to the point where she's having nightmares about you! You can't just walk back into her life like everything is fine."

"Look, you know I-"

"I'm not done. I'm afraid that she poured so much of herself into you, that when you left, you took her with you. You took her light, Lauren. She isn't the same. You can't get mad when she doesn't want to talk to you. Of course she doesn't want to talk to you. Would you want to talk to your tormentor?"

"I am not her tormentor."

"We can't talk anymore. She's already hurt enough by the fact that we've talked. And to be quite honest, I don't think she can take any more hurt. She isn't made of steel."

"Dinah, please don't do this."

"I'm sorry."

"Dinah! Dinah, don't you dare!" And then, a click, sounding more like a gun-shot than anything else. "Dammit!" Lauren nearly throws her phone down.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lauren glimpses a body sliding into the seat next to her. "Trouble in paradise?" It says.

Lauren barely turns, running a hand over her brow. "I'm really not in the mood, Mani."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm not Mani then."

She still doesn't turn. "Sorry, let me try this again: I'm really not in the fucking mood, Ally."

The body shifts uncomfortably. "I'm just trying to help-"

"You want to help?" Lauren finally turns, barely looking at the girl beside her. She raises a brow. "Maybe you should've listened to me when I said I needed a break."

"Lauren, you're a star-"

"A star doesn't mean anything these days."

The air grows so brittle, Ally feels her lips drying out. Lauren returns her attention to the window.

"Look at it this way: If you had taken a break, you wouldn't have won those VMA's. Or sold out a world tour. Come on, Lo. I was doing what's best for your career."

Lauren runs her tongue over her teeth. "Because my career is way more important than my well-being, right?"

"Your well-being? Or Camila's well-being?"

"I don't see a difference."

It was true.

Ally's sigh is louder now, more aggressive. They'll be landing any minute now, the location of which is undoubtedly already flogged by old men in hoodies waving around cameras like swords. She places a hand on Lauren's thigh.

"I'm sorry things worked out this way, okay? But right now we've got to be Lauren Jauregui, pop-star. Not Lauren Jauregui, heartbroken teen."

Lauren's laugh is sharper than the sound of glass breaking. She leans closer to Ally, places her own hand on her thigh.

"Go fuck yourself."

Her smirk never leaves her face, not even as she struts off the private jet, greeting the mass of hooded paparazzi and fans with tired eyes.

She wonders if they can see her own tired eyes, too.

-

Camila wakes up late that afternoon. Dinah's already ordered pizza by the time she lugs herself out of bed.

They won't discuss the previous nights events. Dinah will shake off the hurtful words. Camila will regret them. It's a process that's long overgrown.

Only this time, there is no movie playing on the television.

Camila nearly loses her shit at the paused image plaguing the screen.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" She says, eyes quivering with fear as she stumbles down the staircase. She has to lean on the railing for support. "Do you think this is funny? How could you-"

"You need to see it." Is all Dinah says, wiping sauce from the corner of her mouth. She doesn't look at Camila, keeping her eyes locked on the TV. "You need to see her."

"You're sick." Camila says the words softly at first, like she's trying them out, testing their truth.

And they are true, she decides. More than true.

Though she isn't sure who she's regarding.

"You're sick and...and you know how I feel about-"

"I'm sick?" Dinah sets her plate of pizza on the couch, rising. "Camila, the only person in this house whose sick is you. I'm only trying to help! Do you see her?" She gestures to the screen. "Look at her eyes, Mila. She's just as broken as you are."

But Camila refuses to spare the screen a second glance. She pulls her arms against her chest, shivering like the room has suddenly frozen over. "She should be." She mumbles, then louder; "She should be broken. Not me, but her. She deserves all the pain."

"You need to stop being so petty."

The words hurt more than the previous night's exchange. Dinah has never acted like this before. She's always stayed quiet, gently nudging here and there like a mom encouraging her kid to make friends in church. She has never spoken with such confidence, such tiredness.

Camila completely views it the wrong way, feeling more like a victim than ever. She feels like the world is against her, and, now, Dinah.

She isn't sure if she can take it.

"How dare you say that?" She tightens her arms against herself, like she's trying to hold herself together. "She sent me away. She gave me a plane ticket and forced me to leave and when I refused she threatened to call security. You have the audacity to call me petty?"

"It's been a month!" Dinah's lost control over her voice, letting it shake the walls of the house. "You need to get over it. You're letting this eat you alive. If you don't accept things, you're never going to get better. And then what? What happens when Lauren forgets to pay the rent?"

It's such a violent, low blow, Camila nearly loses her grip on the railing.

She didn't ask for Lauren to shovel loads of money down her throat. It was her idea of penance, a way to alleviate all the guilt building up in her chest like mucus.

If Camila hadn't accepted it, she would have been homeless. But as she watches Dinah, as she understands the impatience in her eyes, she wonders: maybe it would've been better.

It's such a silly thought, that being homeless and prideful would be better than housed and vulnerable.

But she can't help but think it.

Dinah doesn't feel any remorse. Her heart may be soft, but her tongue is sharp.

"The only way you're going to get over this is by accepting things and getting closure. Look at her," Again, Dinah gestures to the TV. "She's hurting just as bad as you are. You guys need to talk."

Camila has no other choice but to face the screen.

It's Lauren, cropped into three different squares resembling polaroids. She has no makeup on, no sunglasses, her hair is disheveled. Her eyes are what really make the headline.

"Lauren Jauregui greets fans, tired as ever."

The closed captions are on, too. One reporter comments, "It looks like she hasn't slept in days."

Camila shrinks against her skin, color draining from it faster than seemingly possible. She feels too hot now, like there's a fire surrounding her.

Maybe there is.

She wants to disappear, wants to erase both her past and present. She wants to exist no longer, because if she does, she'll always be permitted to this. She will never escape Lauren Jauregui, pop-star.

Camila will always be known as the friend who got lost among all the screams and flashing lights. But no one aside from each other and Dinah will know what really happened.

"Camila?"

She meets Dinah's eyes slowly, eerily. She's getting lost in her own head again.

"Please, just hear her out." It's a last-ditch effort, a beg swelling with desperation.

Camila shuts it down. She meets Dinah's eyes one last time, then rushes up the stairs.

"Camila!" She can hear her yelling, hear her elbow slam against the stair railing. "You can't do this forever!"

But for Camila, it has been forever.

She falls back asleep within an hour. She doesn't wake up at all that night.

-

Lauren knew she was in Camila's state, in her actual town. She had no other choice; it was a mandatory stop for some big radio interview.

But she didn't expect to run into Dinah. Not in this cramped, too-polished Target.

Dinah doesn't recognize her.

They happen to be in the same aisle, the music section. They even reach for the same CD.

Lauren tells herself it isn't intentional.

"Oh, my bad," Dinah takes in the girl, black coat and sunglasses and all, then smiles warmly, her voice more innocent than ever.

It nearly destroys Lauren all over again.

She clears her throat, almost lowering her voice in an attempt to further disguise herself.

"No, go ahead." She waves her hand.

"Thanks." Again, Dinah smiles, never paying a second-thought to what might be behind those brooding sunglasses. She carts the CD, and is already passing through when an idea dawns upon Lauren.

"Hey, um-" She starts, watching as Dinah swiftly turns around.

The kindness to her eyes is never lost. Lauren would remember that.

"I was just...um...can I ask you something? You know, woman to woman?"

She silently curses herself for how dumb the words fall, rolling her eyes.

Dinah's smile only grows wider, her brow dipping with curiosity.

"Sure, why not?"

Lauren tries to maintain focus on the answer she needs. She needs to be clever, swift.

This could all go wrong.

She clears her throat again, smiling faintly.

"I'm assuming you've had a bad break-up before, yeah?"

Dinah nods slowly, the dip in her brow growing.

"The guy that really hurt you, the one who completely and utterly broke your heart. Suppose he felt terrible and wanted you back. What would be the incentive to...accept him, I guess?"

"You mean like-" But there's something in the way the girl words things, something that makes Dinah ponder for longer. Incentive. Such a weird word that she's only heard a handful of times-

And Dinah knows. With a gasp, a widening of the eyes, a folding of the shoulders.

She knows.

But she doesn't tell.

"My mom always told me to never go back to someone who hurt me." Dinah begins saying, telling a secret with her eyes. "So for me to take someone back after they left me in shambles...It would take a lot." She looks Lauren up and down, tries to peer beyond the sunglasses.

Her tired eyes cannot be masked. Dinah stares straight through them.

"But I wouldn't say it's hopeless. If you love her, and I mean truly love her, you'll do whatever it takes."

It doesn't process until Dinah's left, the use of her pronouns, the way she sounded so sure.

It takes all of Lauren's strength not to run after her.

-

Dinah wakes up to a four am phone call. She half expects it to be Camila, too cowardly to come out of her room, perhaps too paralyzed by her nightmare.

But the caller ID is a California number. A Hollywood number.

She takes a deep sigh before answering.

"What the hell do you want?" She keeps her eyes closed. "It's four in the fucking morning. You're lucky Mila hasn't woken up yet."

"I need you to do me a favor."

"Are you-? Lauren, I swear to god if you're-"

"I'm not drunk, I swear."

Her voice sounds clean enough, but there's still an edge to her voice that makes Dinah wonder.

"Are you high?"

"What? No, Dinah, I'm jet-lagged."

Dinah's sigh is louder this time. She wants to believe Lauren, but past events beg her to think otherwise.

She had been drunk the last time she called, back when Dinah ended things. Or, at least thought she ended things.

Dinah was getting tired of being unable to sleep through the night completely.

"I need you to do me a favor. Just one thing. I promise, if things don't work out after that, I'll stop calling. I'll end communication completely."

The edge in Lauren's voice thins when Dinah doesn't reply.

"Please, Dinah. You have to do this, please."

Dinah doesn't know if this is the path to closure or to another war-zone. But it's a step, and that's more than she could ask for.

They talk for nearly two hours that night.

There is no movie that night.

—

Dinah waits until the absolute last minute, already donned in a spunky outfit made for the club.

But a concert works, too.

Camila hasn't made a sound in the past 24 hours. Dinah hasn't thought to check on her. She's simply assuming Camila is being petty again, refusing to come out of her room for fear of forced communication.

So she stomps up the stairs, almost gleefully, full of hope. She calls Camila's name a few times, knocks on her door, asks if she's decent.

Camila doesn't reply.

"Come on, Mila," Dinah says, turning her door handle. "I know we've been fighting lately, but-"

Dinah's heart stops. Not nearly, but fully, completely stops.

"Oh my god," The words come without thought, because thinking isn't even a comprehendible idea right now. She isn't thinking. She's not even sure she's breathing.

"Oh my god," She says again.

—

"She's not answering my calls," Lauren doesn't look up from her phone, her fingers typing out another extensive text to Dinah. "Why isn't she answering my calls?"

Normani repositions Lauren's chin, tilting it upwards. "Maybe she's still pulling Camila out of bed."

After she doesn't reply, Normani meets Lauren's terrified eyes in the mirror.

She frowns. "Relax, Lauren. You're just freaking yourself out again." She begins unravelling the brunette's hair, taking out the pins and curlers.

"What if I'm not?" Lauren desperately seeks her makeup artists' eyes. "What if she couldn't manage to bring Camila here? What if something went wrong?"

Normani rests her hands on Lauren's shoulders, frown deepening.

Anxiety doesn't suit Lauren well. It makes her voice quiver and stumble and makes her hands shake and her eyes lose all color and plants outrageous ideas in her head.

If she's unsettled, everyone is.

Normani sighs. "Then something went wrong, babe. You can't worry about things you can't control. If they couldn't make it, they couldn't make it. There's nothing else you can do. Everything is up to fate."

Lauren closes her eyes.

"But there's always a place, Lo. There's always going to be a place for the two of you, whether it's in dreams or memories or somewhere in-between. You just have to remember what you two had. Hold onto that, and you'll never fear letting go."

She can see Lauren still doesn't understand.

"What I mean is, if goodbyes were easy we'd all be alone. If you keep those memories in the back of your mind, it won't be so hard when you have to actually let go."

"I still don't-"

Normani repositions Lauren's chin again.

"Just try not to worry so much, okay?"

She tries to smile reassuringly, but it all does is discomfort Lauren even further.

—

Dinah still doesn't answer Lauren's calls, but Lauren keeps trying anyway. She made a promise, didn't she? Didn't she promise to bring Camila? Didn't she?

Lauren is about to step on stage, and she still has her phone in her hand.

"What the hell are you doing?"

She can already tell by the tightness in the voice, by the clanking the of the heels, that it's Ally.

She rips the phone out of Lauren's hand.

"Are you insa-" She stops, her eyes processing the contact name lit up on the phone.

Her brow skyrockets. "This again? Really, Lauren? Really?"

Lauren barely meets the smaller girl's eyes. "It's none of your business." She reaches back for her phone, but Ally pulls it away further.

"None of my-? Oh, Lauren, you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"You can't dictate my personal life."

"I can if it starts interfering with your career."

Lauren's jaw tightens. Her heart is beating too quickly, and there are too many worries dragging her down, drowning her.

She wants to fight back. She wants to put Ally in her place, remind her she's only a manager and nothing else. She is so small compared to Lauren Jauregui, pop-star.

And she's about to say something sharp, when the stage shakes with the opening notes of her latest single.

She has to go on stage.

"Have fun out there," Ally says in her meanest voice. "Don't forget why you're here."

She doesn't realize she forgot a long time ago.

Or maybe she has, and just refuses to acknowledge it.

Lauren stomps onto the stage.

-

She is halfway through her set, and she is dying.

She has her guitar in hand, her band already beginning to trail into the song-

And she is dying.

"So, um," She stutters. All the lights never used to bother her, but she swears she's melting under them now. "This is a new song I wrote about..."

Lauren knows she has to make the right decision. Though she isn't present, she can still hear Dinah's voice, commending her, cheering her on.

'You'll do whatever it takes.'

Her throat is closing up, and again she looks up to the sky praying the stars will spell out a right answer.

But there are too little stars, only one or two.

It reminds her of them, of how they used to be. Lauren always called her her little star, poking her cheek-

and Camila always begged to differ, calling her the same-

And she knows what she has to do.

"I wrote this about a girl."

The crowd dims at first, then screams with realization.

But all Lauren can hear is Ally's huffs and puffs, can hear her tapping her foot in impatience, can hear her calling her off the stage.

"I wrote it more for her than about, I gu-"

She swore it was all in her head. She wanted to believe it was just her anxiety getting the best of her.

But now Ally runs on stage, ducking her head away from the crowd.

She latches onto Lauren's arm, but Lauren tears away.

"What?" She demands into her microphone. "Tell me, what? What do you need? What's so important that you have to stop me in the middle of a performance?"

She shoves the microphone in Ally's face, eyes flickering from her to the crowd.

Ally looks like she's about to crumble.

Lauren smiles. Good, she thinks.

"Go on," She says. "Say it."

"She's in the-" Ally tries to mouth, but Lauren wont let her.

"What was that? This crowd is pretty loud, you're gonna have to speak up."

"Lauren, please-"

"Say it."

"She's in the hospital!"

Lauren drops the microphone.

—

The hospital won't let her in.

"This is fucking bullshit!" Lauren says under her breath, through gritted teeth. She is trying to remain calm speaking with the nurse at the front desk. Camila always did say she had an issue with that, with keeping calm.

She again feels like she is dying, like her brain is about to explode and her heart is-

Her heart stopped a while ago.

"I'm sorry, hun, but unless you're immediate-"

"I'm the closest thing she has to a-..." But she can't say sister, because Dinah's already in there, and she can't say wife because-

She shoves her hands in her hair, pacing.

"Hun, you're going to have to sit down and wait."

But she's been waiting so long already, she wants to scream. She has been waiting for what feels like years, centuries. These past two months have been lived through an uneven hour glass.

She isn't sure if she can wait any longer.

"Please," She whispers, leaning into the desk, her head down. "Please, let me see her."

The nurse glances over Lauren. Here is this fading, withering girl. Not a pop-star, not an egocentric diva, but a girl. A broken girl.

She frowns.

"You've been all over the news lately." She says.

That's when Lauren finally lets her tears fall.

The nurse continues. "I never believe the headlines, if I'm being honest. I read about these young stars who lose their minds because they can't be who they want." She shakes her head. "I don't think anyone ever looks beyond the headlines and realizes that these are people, not the characters they're forced to play. My brother went through that," She glances to the sky, grinning. "God bless his soul, my brother. He had a boyfriend, but they didn't live to see gay marriage legalized."

Lauren feels her heart speed back to life, confused and afraid. "Why are you-"

"My brother's boyfriend was in a terrible accident. He was on his way to my brother's birthday party, can you believe that? I still haven't forgiven god for that. He had to be flown in by a helicopter. Came right to this hospital. I was working that day, too."

Lauren feels her throat swelling up again. She nearly loses her breath at the shadows blurring the nurse's eyes.

"I saw them rush him in and I swear I was having a heart attack myself. My brother wasn't even notified until twenty minutes later. And it wasn't them who called him, mind you. It was me. On his birthday, hun. Can you imagine that? Getting a call like that on your birthday?"

She smiles in likely disbelief, letting the memory play behind her eyes.

"I'm not related to him, so for them to not let me in...that I understood. But when my brother finally arrived, they wouldn't let him in either. They said he wasn't married to him, so he wasn't family. I'll never forget his face, that poor boy. It was like he was the one dying, not his boyfriend."

Lauren feels like fluid is flooding her lungs, like her tears are overflowing from the inside.

"Daniel- Sorry, his boyfriend. He had no family. They had abandoned him, disowned him because of who he was. Their numbers had been changed. They moved. My brother was all he had.

"My brother, Sammy..." She clears her throat, tugs on her uniform collar. "Sorry, it's still a little hard to say his name."

Lauren shakes her head, brow raised with concern. She's fully tuned into the story now, trembling with disbelief and something else, something she can't put her finger on. She can't bring herself to comfort the nurse and tell her to go on, but she can do this, shake her head and raise her brow. She hopes it's enough.

And it is.

"Daniel didn't make it."

Lauren shivers.

"It tore my brother apart. He would've burnt down this hospital if it weren't for me." She smiles sadly. "I have never seen someone so broken before. It was like he wasn't dead, but he wasn't alive either. He just existed. He lasted three weeks before he killed himself."

Lauren feels like she's just been punched in the stomach, repeatedly. She feels sick; her head is reeling; her eyes are burning; her lungs are so dry. She closes her eyes, attempting to still her shaking limbs.

"It was hard on all of us, but mostly me. My family, they never knew Sammy was gay. They always thought he and Daniel were just best friends. He was forced to be this character, this straight person he was not. But he never saw an issue with it, because he had Daniel. So when Daniel...passed, he just lost it.

"I've lived to see gay marriage both rejected and accepted, and I am still struggling to believe the latter. Because if it were truly accepted, you'd be able to love freely. You wouldn't have to tear yourself apart over her."

Lauren thinks she's going to pass out. She speaks with numb lips. "How...How did you-"

"You think you're hiding your pain so well, but it's written all over your face, hun. It's in the way you slump your shoulders when you talk, like you've already lost the meaning." She swallows. "Sammy was the reason I went back to college to study psychology. I moved up to the mental ward for a few years, but I just couldn't handle seeing all that pain day after day. If I'm being honest-and I don't mean to offend you, really-" She reaches for Lauren's hand, and Lauren gladly takes it. The nurse's hand is so warm against her own. "I don't know if you can handle losing her without saying goodbye, hun. I'm not sure anyone can." She meets her eyes. "And I'll be damned if I let what happened to my brother happen to you. You have power in this world. You have a voice. If I do this, I need you to promise me you're going to use it."

Lauren doesn't understand. She stutters, "Wh-...I-I don't-"

Then the nurse pulls out a visitors pass, and everything makes sense.

Lauren's eyes burn harder. "Thank you-" She begins saying, but the nurse stops her.

"Promise me, hun?" She raises a brow. "You'll speak out?"

Lauren nods so hard her head spins. She almost smiles when she says it.

"I promise."

—

She waits before entering the room, her heart slowing down again. But she realizes she is empty-handed.

She pulls out her phone, dials.

"Is she okay?" is Normani's initial response. "Are you okay? Oh, god, Lo. Please tell me you're okay-"

"I need you to do me a favor." Her words pull on her throat, tasting bitter. "How fast can you get here?"

"I'm already on my way."

-

Dinah hugs Lauren so hard she can hear her bones cracking.

Lauren doesn't mind, keeping her eyes shut, not yet able to bear the body occupying the hospital.

"I don't know what happened," Dinah cries, her voice tired and worn. "I thought-I thought she was just ignoring me. I didn't...Oh my god, this is all my fault. I'm so sorry."

But Lauren shakes her head, though Dinah can't see. She rubs Dinah's back. "Don't say that," She whispers. "You didn't know. Don't blame yourself." She finally pulls away from the taller girl, searching her eyes. "Don't you dare blame yourself. Please, promise me you understand. Promise me you won't blame yourself."

The names Sammy and Daniel echo in her mind like a ghost demanding attention.

Dinah shakes her head at first, unable to promise something so untrue.

"If I had just checked on her-"

"If you had checked on her the end result would've been the same. If she was really set on..." She can't even say it. She shakes her head. "Nothing could have stopped her."

Dinah breaks all over again. "I'm so sorry," She says, her voice thinning out. "I'm so sorry."

Lauren shakes her head. She knows she has to be brave, knows she has to be strong enough for the both of them.

Or for the three of them.

"What did the doctor say?" She still hasn't glanced over Dinah's shoulder. She isn't that brave.

"He...He said she overdosed on Ambien. She overdosed on her fucking sleeping pills. I can't believe I didn't see it coming. I- She was depressed, and her sleeping pills stopped working..." Her chest aches. "I'm so stupid-"

"Dinah," Lauren sets her guitar on one of the free chairs lining the wall. She grips the other girl by the wrists, almost too tightly. "If you keep blaming yourself you're going to end up exactly like her." Her voice breaks on the last word. "I've lost her twice now. I can't lose you too."

Dinah holds onto Lauren like she's her only salvation.

Maybe she is, she thinks.

They stay like that for a while, in each others arms, holding on for dear life.

-

Camila's body is so small and frail against the hospital bed. It nearly swallows her whole. Her skin matches the bed sheets.

But she is breathing. She is ebbing away, but she is breathing.

Her eyes are closed, her pulse is delayed.

But she is breathing.

"I missed you, you know," Lauren says when the two of them are alone. Each word feels like she's swallowing a razor blade.

She takes a seat near her bed. She folds her hands, stares at them.

"I didn't want to say goodbye. But if I didn't, I would've lost everything. They would've took away the house I bought for my parents. They would've left me broke."

She takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I was trying to find a way to make it work. I thought there was a way I could hide away some money or just..." She shakes her head, lips quivering. "But I couldn't. There was just no way around things. And I wanted to marry you, Camila. I promise. I just couldn't do that to my family. I couldn't do that to myself. If I broke all those contracts, we would never escape. We'd be broke and homeless and more depressed than we were when we...separated. We weren't ready yet, Camila. We weren't ready."

She wipes away at her eyes, almost clawing. "But you couldn't see that. And I get it, trust me, I get it. I sent you away and I wasn't able to tell you why and you thought it was all me. I don't blame you. But I always knew there was a place for us. There is a place for us. I came out, Camila. I came out even before I knew you..."

Before you tried to kill yourself.

She loses it then, unable to keep herself together. She crumbles, like a sand castle. Like wood thrown into a fire. Like someone who's just lost the only thing that was keeping them alive. Like someone just lost their heart.

Cries rack her body, tear open her sides, and her lungs shrink. She starts coughing, to the point where her gag reflex is triggered.

She keeps it down, though. She keeps it down.

She stares blankly for a moment after the cries die down.

"If you wake up, I'll quit. I'll quit this life for one with you. I'll marry you." She meets Camila's shut-eyes then, trailing down to her chest. Her heart is beating so slowly, and she wonders then if her own heart could ever match it. "God, I'll do anything. Just please don't leave yet. I know you weren't trying to kill yourself, Camila." She closes her eyes. "You just didn't want to be alive. That isn't the same as wanting to die, though. You just wanted to sleep. I know you'd never do that. You might hate me, but you wouldn't do that to me."

There is no change in Camila.

That's when Lauren reaches for her guitar.

"I wrote you a song. I know I've written a lot of songs for you, but this one...this one is different. I made sure everyone knew this song was for you." Her hands slip around the neck. "Half a million people. I told half a million people this song was for you-"

She stops talking, feeling her eyes burn again.

And she starts singing.

"There's a place

Somewhere that's between dream and awake

That's where we'll find each other

And I know that that sounds stupid

It'll give us both something to find,"

She slows the chord progression, checking for a response.

Nothing.

"When we were kids

All run-and-gun and back-talk kinda kids

We'd get drunk out on the sidewalk and we'd laugh ourselves home

Used to do that kinda shit all the time

And what I fight today

I always keep those yesterdays in my mind"

She remembers how they had grown up together, in this state, in this town. This hospital was their local hospital.

"All I want, wanted

Was to be want, wanted by you"

And she remembers more, remember's how they were inseparable, how Dinah always got jealous of how close they were.

"Cause when goodbyes

Get easy, we'll all be alone

But why God, why?

Can't this one just be even though

That I'm gearing up for this battle

Even if I know that I may never win

When you throw yourself away

Just to throw yourself away again"

And she see's it-

See's how heartbroken Camila was the first time Lauren left, when her mom shipped her off to Los Angeles, 3,000 miles away from New York.

She knows why Camila fell so hard the second time they said goodbye.

"In your heart, that's where I'll always be

Now close your eyes and I will never leave

It's funny how I see us hand in hand

I miss you already, understand

That I know that you aren't ready

But you don't get to pick the day

That the worst one in your life will land right on

I can hear you beg for more

I can hold you in this song"

And she is crying, but she continues to sing anyway. She sings the words she said to Camila when they said goodbye last, how Camila held onto Lauren's hand, as if she were drowning.

And she remembers how they used to hold hands as kids, too. Even when Lauren's mom yelled at them, yelled at her for being so affectionate.

And she remembers that one time Camila broke her arm, how Lauren demanded her mom drive her to the hospital, how she made her dad drive her instead when her mom said no.

And she can see it so clearly now, hopping onto the front desk, little twelve-year-old Lauren-

And everything clicks.

"All I want, wanted

Was to be want, wanted by you

By you, by you, and honey"

"You're going to need to wait out here, hun. I'm afraid it's family only."

"But she's okay, right?" Lauren begged. "She's okay? She's gonna live?"

"You care a lot about this girl, don't you, hun?"

"Well, of course I do." She leans in towards the nurse, whispering. "Don't tell my mom, but Karla and I, we're gonna live together when we're older."

"Is that right?"

"Yep! Probably away from here, too. I don't think my mom would allow us here."

"It's New York, hun. You never know."

"I want to live in Hollywood, or maybe Los Angeles, where all the big stars are. That's what I'm gonna be one day. A huge star. And Karla's gonna be a writer. We're gonna be famous together." She said it with a happy sigh, stars in her eyes. "Dinah might be a little jealous, though."

"All I need, all I needed

Yeah, was to be, just to be needed by you"

"Well, hun," The nurse lowers her voice, smiling so bright the stars would be jealous. "That'll happen. You and...what's her name? Karla? You girls may get slack. But that's just people being jealous of what you two have. Remember that now, will you?"

"Why would people be jealous of us? My mom says-"

"All people want is to be wanted, to be needed. You want and need Karla as much as she wants and needs you, yes?"

"I-" Lauren turns her head in thought. She shrugs, nodding, proud. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

"That's good, hun. That's wonderful. You remember that, and people's jealousy won't rub off on you. You remember that, and you'll be just fine. There's a place for you girls, a good place where you belong. And if its not reachable now, well, God'll make it for you eventually."

She breathes, the memory opening her eyes like she's just awoken from a nightmare.

But it wasn't a nightmare. Not at all.

She breaks into a new bout of tears, of shaking sobs. But it doesn't feel like breaking. It feels like healing, like letting go.

She sets her guitar down, reaches for Camila's hand.

"There's a place for us," She whispers, viewing the memory over and over. "There's a place for us now, Camila."

She squeezes her hand hard, shaking. "If you wake up, there's a place for us."

But when Camila doesn't reply, she cries again.

And that's it, she decides. She kisses Camila's hand, and it's cold, so cold she shivers.

She won't believe this is real until she gets home, or the hotel, or wherever Ally's planned to keep her. It may be the streets this time.

But deep down, she knows Camila would've been happy. Knows she would've felt relieved, revived.

She may not feel that now, but wherever she goes, what ever place she's been assigned to-

She'll be happy, Lauren thinks. She'll be needed and wanted.

Her hand freezes on the door-handle, looking back for the final time.

She thinks she sees Camila blinking, think she sees her in a different position than a few seconds ago, shoulders lopsided.

She stops herself. There's a place for them, but it isn't here. Not anymore.

She turns the door-handle, freezing again when she hears the sound of sheets ruffling.

Stop it, she tells herself. Keep going.

She forces herself to open the door-

But she hears a voice, hears her voice. She knows she isn't making it up. She can't make something like that up, can she?

"Lauren?"

But she can, can't she? This is all in her head. This is all in her fucking head.

She steps out of the room-

"Lauren? Lauren?!"

She is making it up. She is making it up.

"Lauren!"

Then she calls for Dinah. If this is real, if Camila really is awake-

But she can't be awake, can she? She's supposed to be in a coma, isn't she? She's supposed to be nearly dead, isn't she?

"What?" Dinah says, worry heavy in her voice. Her hands grip Lauren's. "Did something happen? Is she-"

Lauren doesn't have to say a word. Dinah nearly shoves Lauren out of the way. "Camila?"

Lauren stays facing the other way.

She is shaking. She fears for everything. If this is just some hallucination, if this is fake-

She won't make it. She swears she won't make it.

"Lauren," Dinah's voice is shaking. "It's okay. You can turn around."

But she refuses. She is frozen still.

Then Dinah makes her, latching onto her arms and whirling her around.

Lauren doesn't believe it.

She blinks a few times, rubs her hands over her eyes.

Camila's brown eyes are still staring back at her when she opens them.


End file.
